


Across the Stars

by writingramblr



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Destiny, F/M, Reincarnation, lokane - Freeform, used a couple of tom's previous characters from the gifsets inspiration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-11 16:10:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2074563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki and Jane Foster are just two strangers who've met on Asgard.</p><p>Or are they?</p><p>Could they be part of something bigger?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Across the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the love theme from Star Wars episode two by John Williams
> 
> story/drabble idea inspired by this gifset 
> 
> http://janesfoster.tumblr.com/post/90010889249/
> 
> and the pleadings for stuff...i wrote this.  
> it's pretty short and sweet but it was fun to make.

Throughout all of time, Loki and Jane Foster had found one another. They’d been drawn together in so many places, and despite circumstances that often ripped them apart, or kept them at a distance from one another, it was always lurking there. The simple truth. The fact of the matter was, Loki and Jane Foster were _destined_ for one another.

 

***

 

The first time he met her, they were in Europe, turn of the century. Where a king was visiting his new queen’s homeland, and met her raven haired cousin who suffered a strange fascination with the stars. Rumors swirl that she is a witch, and only her powerful last name keeps her safe from burning.

 

King Henry meets Lady Jacqueline and the room goes still. He can still feel the ground beneath his feet, and his beautiful Queen on his arm, but suddenly all he can see is her. The woman in emerald silk with a smile that could ignite the stars. It reaches her sparkling chocolate eyes, and he knows he is doomed.

 

Months pass, and the affair consumes them both. She is condemned to die for treason, for betraying her queen and family, and he is branded a letch and suffers no true punishment. But it is punishment enough hearing of her death, and how her last words were to him.

 

"I’ll love you until the stars burn out."

 

***

 

The grip of War across the land is tight. Captain Luke can hardly draw breath for fear of being heard, but how could anyone hear when the boom of cannon fire fills the night air?

 

He’d fought long all day, and only wanted a respite, time enough for a drink and a cigarette. Both are difficult to come by, and neither will truly dull the pain of what he’s had to do, what he’d done, and will do in the coming months.

 

It’s foolish perhaps, but he doesn’t care. He wanders around the small town the soldiers have camped in, and he finds himself staring at a sign. Something about girls who could make a man forget.

 

So what if they’re prostitutes? He could die any day, why not live a little?

 

He’s got no money, besides what change is left from bartering for the drink and tobacco. But the madam doesn’t mind, she grins at the sight of any gleaming coin, and plucks a cigarette from the pack, before nodding upstairs.

 

The first door he opens is cold. There’s no fireplace, and the windows are thrown wide open. There’s a girl sitting on the bed, shivering, but staring out at the night sky.

 

"Are you mad girl? Close that. You’ll freeze to death."

 

He’s strode across the room and nearly pushed her aside to follow through with his own order, after watching her for a few minutes, and seeing that she did nothing.

 

The window shuts with a slam, and he turns to look at the waif, but she’s not what he expected at all.

Straggly brown waves frame a soft face, an angelic smile, and haunting brown eyes.

 

"Sorry sir. I just like trying to find the frying pan in the sky."

 

He frowns at her, and she giggles. A sound he hasn’t heard in months.

 

He takes a seat beside her on the bed, no dishonorable intentions meant, and pulls her into his arms, rubbing his hands on her chilly ones.

 

"You were looking for a constellation on a night like this?"

 

"Of course. Clear cold nights are the best for viewing the stars."

 

He’s not sure how she could have figured something like that out, but he doesn’t care. She’s lovely, and becoming warmer every second he holds her, and damn it all, he’s going to kiss her.

 

"What’s your name?"

 

"Julie."

 

She’s got a dirty crumpled moss green bow in her hair, and he finds that he likes it. Her name is probably a false one, but that doesn’t matter.

 

"I’m going to kiss you Julie."

 

She may have nodded, or she might have blinked, but all he knows is how steady her eyes were when they finally met his.

 

He cups her face in his hands, and she shivers, her cheeks soft like silk but still cooler to the touch than they should be.

 

Her lips meet his first, and she’s not soft anymore. Her lips are eager, searching, and before he knows it, she’s climbed into his lap and begun to pull at the buttons on his coat.

 

When the cannons are firing at him, and he’s thrown from his horse, with his heart pumping his blood from his body, he’s facing the sky, grass scratching his face. He can’t see any stars in the blue haze, but he pretends he can see her in the clouds, before his eyes fall shut for the last time.

 

***

 

The party is loud, and the people are most of the noise, but the music that fills the rest of the space is admittedly good.

 

Mr. Fitzgerald didn’t like to leave the house with an unfinished novel still waiting on the desk, but Z had insisted.

 

He lived to obey her. She was after all his muse, the golden girl with the perfect curls.

He laughed at something she said, and when she went off to get them more champagne he lit a cigarette while she was gone.

 

But as he brought the lighter up to the end of the stick, it only sparked at him.

 

"Need a hand?"

 

A silver edged green metal lighter appeared in front of him, and he followed the gold tipped fingers, delicate wrist, and long arm to find a pair of stunning brown eyes watching him with amusement.

 

"Yes please, thank you very much."

 

The lighter flamed up and he inhaled swiftly, savoring the burn of the tobacco as it hit his lungs.

 

"I feel I am indebted to you miss?"

 

The girl smiled, and he took the time to study her. Short brown hair, slicked back from her face, which held little makeup, but for bright green and gold around her eyes, and her lips smiled with coral lipstick.

 

Something about her was so familiar.

 

"June Frasier. And you are?"

 

That name didn’t sound familiar, but that face...

 

An arm slipped through his and he was startled to find Z back at his side, full glass in hand,

 

"Who’s this?"

 

He smiled at her, and then nodded to June.

 

"I was just introducing myself to this lady. She saved me having to fumble for matches."

 

Z stuck out her hand, and June took it,

 

"I’m Mrs.Fitzgerald, but everyone calls me Zelda. This is the genius behind Gatsby."

 

June raised her eyebrows at him,

 

"Well now. I had no idea I was in the presence of such a visionary."

 

He felt as though she was mocking him, but when Z laughed, he relaxed.

 

"Sure. But the fact is, without Zelda, that book might not have been written."

 

June smiled,

 

"Is it true she’s your muse?"

"Of course!"

 

He hoped he looked offended, despite the small voice that was screaming inside his brain that she’d make a wonderful muse, and in fact was quite reminiscent of a certain female golf player.

 

"Fabulous to have met you, but Scottie and I must make the rounds."

 

Z held his arm in a rather tight grasp as she guided him away.

 

"Z, she wasn’t bothering me. And we made the ‘rounds’ already twenty minutes ago."

 

Z rolled her eyes at him,

 

"You know just why we had to go. That _woman_ ," Z’s voice dripped with condescension, "Is a notorious black widow. Just to be seen talking with her is foolhardy in our social circle."

 

He hardly cared what idle gossip surrounded members of society, after all, his book showed just how wrong people could be. But he wasn’t in the mood to argue. His head ached, and the cigarette had not improved his mood. 

"Let’s go home and watch the sun rise." 

He patted her arm, 

"Sounds like a wonderful idea." 

***

 

The slap knocked his head to the side, and his ears rung from the sound. But the fire that spread over his skin, inch by inch, was not from pain, but recognition.

The brown hair, now chestnut with golden strands from the sun, or perhaps a stylist’s hand, and those same brown eyes. They’d haunted his sleep for millennia.

He’d been reborn a god, and she a mortal. But now, she was the most brilliant woman he knew, and she was in love with his brother.

Jane Foster, woman of science, and Loki Odinson, god of mischief and mayhem.

He laughed and smiled at her, but she saw no mirth in the moment. Even as his mind raced with the possibilities and how to discover the truth of their pasts, he couldn’t take his eyes from her.

So what if Thor and Sif caught him staring at the beautiful mortal? They were something special, they were something written in the stars. Forever meant to find one another.

***

 

**Author's Note:**

> in hindsight i realized i used the word "stars" a heckofalot


End file.
